<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Imprisonment by Morri_gan</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29626134">Imprisonment</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morri_gan/pseuds/Morri_gan'>Morri_gan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Febuwhump 2021 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cybertronian Culture (Transformers), Cybertronian Politics (Transformers), Cybertronian Senate (Transformers), Drift has thoughts on society, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Gen, He thinks it sucks, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Pre-War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:28:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29626134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morri_gan/pseuds/Morri_gan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As Drift laid there, gazing up, he was struck by a thought. The towering city levels above him reminded him of an overly large steel cell block of a prison</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A look into Drifts thoughts on Cybertronian society pre-war</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Febuwhump 2021 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Imprisonment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This is my first successful drabble. I have a hard time writing concisely but I think this turned out well. I hope you all like it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Drift slid the needle into a line at the crook of his elbow joint with an ease that came from years of practice. He pushed the plunger, felt the soothing burn enter his system, and sighed in relief. </p>
<p>It had been a week since the incident that landed Drift in a secret clinic. According to the doc that ran it-Ratchet, his name was Ratchet and he’d said a skiv like him was special- he had been lucky to leave there alive, let alone under his own power. </p>
<p>That would be why Gasket hadn’t let him take any clients since then. Tried to have him relax and let his body finish healing. He even got rid of the few boosters they had left. Asked Drift with big pleading eyes to lay off of them for a while. In the face of that amount of worry and hurt, Drift could do nothing but agree. </p>
<p>No one had said anything about syk though. And the shakes and aches had been starting to get to him. </p>
<p>As the world started to give way to the blessed high, his head starting to float in a place where pain couldn’t reach him, Drift laid back on the concrete roof of his derelict home. He onlined his optics, gazing through the cracks to view the twinkling lights of the city levels above. It’s not as good as the view of the stars that can be found further in the Dead End. The best he could do for where he was though. </p>
<p>As he laid there, gazing up, Drift was struck by a thought. The towering levels above him reminded him of an overly large steel cell block of a prison. He let out a humorless huff at the thought.</p>
<p>What a perfect image for how life was like in this Primus forsaken world. Just one big fragging prison. One where a mech could never go up. But they could always be cast down. At least, until they made it here. The Dead End. </p>
<p>Drift wondered if you had to have the lowest perspective to see this truth, or if the fact of their imprisonment was known at every caste level. Maybe not consciously, but in the back of every mecha’s mind. Still, whether or not the middle castes are aware one thing was certain. The ruling class, the mechas living in the tallest levels of the highest towers, they were perfectly aware.</p>
<p>They are aware and they do everything they can to make sure it never changes. If it changes, they lose control and they are far too fond of that power.</p>
<p>How else could you explain the existence of the Dead End. Drift is certain that if they wanted to the Senate could easily get rid of this great eyesore of Cybertron, along with all the unwanteds that call it home. They could probably even spin it in a way that most would not oppose it. But they won’t and for a very simple reason.</p>
<p>The Dead End is a constant reminder of the fates of those who stray from the system. No matter how unhappy a mech may be with their lot in life, all they have to do is look down and suddenly, their cell isn’t looking half bad.</p>
<p>The Senate then takes it one step further and vilifies those unfortunate sparks that end up here so no one looks too close. So no one sees them as equals. So no one thinks to help. After all, everyone knows that the only people you will find in the Dead End are criminals, whores and skives. Surely if they were worth society's pity they would try and better themselves and any handouts given would only motivate them to stay as they are.</p>
<p>It’s isn’t as though most of them were here not because of any sin or crime they did, but because society has deemed them unwanted. That would be preposterous. </p>
<p> Look at Drift and his big terrible crime. He was created an average speedster in a world where only the best of his kind has a place in the upper level. He was just unnecessary extra. How dare he.</p>
<p>Drift closed his shaking hands into fists, brought his arms up to cover his optics as he let out a low growl. His first time getting high in a week and of course his processor chooses now to think of all this slag. Really, what was the point of getting himself worked up like this. </p>
<p>Nothing was ever going to change.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>